


It's Cold Outside

by MyCherryRed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:23:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyCherryRed/pseuds/MyCherryRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek never goes far enough away that Stiles can't call him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Don't own anything, i'm just playing :)

Lightening flashed through the gap in the curtains just before a crack of sound split the air and Stiles eyes flew open on a short, sharp gasp. His chest hurt, throat tight in panic as the sound of the rain lashing against the thick panes of glass that sheltered them from the angry elements.

 

He gasped for air, his nightmare still fresh in his mind as if it were running through his veins rather than staying in his head. His fear made it hard to breathe, the panic attack staying just within arms reach, deep down in his body as if it were waiting for the next little push to burst forth and take him over.

 

He flung one arm out, touching the bed next to him, half wondering why he didn't have his wolfs solid arms around him already. He felt nothing beside him but wrinkled sheets and a pillow with a dent in it, long devoid of body heat and looked around in case his wolf had just had trouble sleeping.

 

“Derek?” He called out softly, thinking that his wolf couldn't be far. He was angry at himself for being so needy, for letting a nightmare work him up to the point where his voice was thin and shaking, but it was so real. So very very real.

 

No one answered him and his heartbeat ramped up again making his limbs shake and his lungs contract. Derek wouldn't leave him, the dream wasn't real, he told himself. He's not far, he couldn't be far. Derek was fine, he was alive and somewhere close.

 

He hoped.

 

He drew back the covers slowly, his skin goose pimpling as the cool night air hit him. He shivered inside and out, the darkness and fear wrapping around him as he pushed himself off the mattress and stepped towards the hall.

 

“Derek, where are you?” He called a little louder knowing that if the alpha was anywhere near that he would hear the terror in Stiles voice and come to him. Nothing happened. He wrapped his arms around himself, focusing on keeping his breathing even.

 

The house was dark and silent, the violent interruption of thunder making him cringe with every clap. Nothing like the warm wooden structure that it was in daylight, replacing the burnt out remains of the Hale house with light and warmth and, thankfully, running water. The moon was hidden, its bright light shrouded in deep grey darkness.

 

Another clap of thunder sent his heart fluttering, his breathing picking up the pace until he could see nothing but spots dancing in front of his eyes as the attack welled up inside of him.

 

“Shit, shit, shit...” He groped along the wall and slid down the painted surface, chest bursting with the need to breathe.

 

“Stiles?” It took him a second but he recognised that voice. Deep, husky and slightly alarmed at the state of his mate, Derek’s dulcet tones were music to his ears. The sound was quickly drowned out by the rushing that could only be blood, and he flung himself against his lovers solid chest and clung like a limpet.

 

“Stiles, what’s wrong? What happened?” The Alpha gathered him up, and Stiles could feel the wolf surveying the house, ears on full alert for whatever startled his mate into his near panic attack. “Has something happened?”

 

“No, nothing, I was just being stupid.” Stiles muttered, pressing his face into the line of Derek’s neck instinctively. As his heart slowed and he drew comfort from his mates nearness he could feel his face flushing with embarrassment, his overreaction making him feel like the fragile teenager that he had been before he'd started truly running with wolves.

 

“What's wrong?” His mates voice was soft and enquiring. Beacon Hills hadn't had any trouble for years; the Hale pack once again strong and growing all the time. Derek had disappeared for a while, but had come back after spending time training with another Alpha, a good friend of his mothers who has taken him under her wing when she had heard about his situation.

 

People had been hurt because he didn't know what he was doing, was never trained the way that Laura was, so like a true Alpha he had rectified that. He was kinder to his Betas, more understanding and a stronger leader because of it. It had been that man Stiles had fallen in love with; the Derek that he had grown to be.

 

“Nightmare.” He huffed, clinging tighter as Derek’s strong muscles flexed and he was tilted. His wolfs' damp T shirt quickly drying in the face of werewolf body heat. “Just a stupid nightmare and when I woke up you were gone and I kind of...”

 

“Panicked?”

 

“Yeah.” He flinched as another crack of lightening lit up the bedroom and he could see the Alphas black hair plastered onto his head, water dripping into the scruff of his beard. He looked a little like he had been dragged through a soggy hedge backwards.

 

“I'm sorry, the storm was getting really bad and I couldn't sleep so I made a round, I thought I would be back before you woke up.” Derek placed Stiles back on the bed and stripped out of his shirt and sweat pants, tugging on a pair of boxers and crawling back into bed with his now shivering mate.

 

“It's really stupid,” Stiles murmured as he plastered himself against Derek’s side, pulling the comforter up to his chin and finally relaxing. “It was just a nightmare.”

 

Long fingers carded through his hair as he rested his head on the wide expanse of chest and let out a sigh at the familiar drumming heart beat.

 

“Not stupid. I'm sorry I wasn't there. I'll tell you next time I go out.” Derek pressed a kiss against the top of his head and pulled the comforter up to cover them both, more for Stiles benefit than his own.

 

“Love you, Sourwolf.” Stiles muttered, warm and safe enough to slip into good dreams for the rest of the night. He felt more than heard his wolfs response and drifted off.  


End file.
